I move my hips to the rhythm of the song, undulating it to the beats of the drum. I stomp and turn and finally I let go and cry. Tear drops as big as the pebbles by the riverside roll down my cheeks. I weep for my innocence, thrown away like trash, I weep for the seasons to come I will never see, I shed tears for my lost womanhood, for the man I will never know, for the babies I will never suckle.
I am the
betrothed of the gods, to be offered as a sacrifice to cleanse the land of evil. I am the sacrificial lamb, to wash away the sins of the people. I was born a twin, the younger of the duo with feet first and the other twin dead. I did not cry for hours and did not suckle for days. I came with beauty untold, beauty not seen for the many years past, not since the three villages merged to form one.
I was named when I was 13 moons old, a harvest year after the day of my birth. This alone was a sign of what was to come. The feast lasted 3 days and 3 nights. “How they did know it was me”? I asked, and my mother said that even as a tiny baby I had such beauty that there was no doubt.
I grew up under my mother, who watched the days pass with a mixture of happiness and sadness, happy that she at least had a child to call hers, sad that the child would not last long in the world, that the child will bear no progeny. I grew up also under the Old Wise Woman, the right hand of the gods who was reputed to know all and see all. She also watched the days pass with happiness and sadness, happiness that one had been found, sadness that I was quite literally the harbinger of a new dawn.
Days passed and weeks, and months and seasons and the time drew near. The old wise woman had convened with the gods and a day for the celebration was chosen. It was the full moon after I marked eighteen years. The day is bright and clear, the sun favouring us and the rain forgiving. The air thrummed with excitement for this was the first sacrifice most except the very old had witnessed in a lifetime.
I am to be buried alive in the shrine of the gods and dug up seven market days later and my body burnt on their altar. I do not want to die but what do I do? It is my destiny and I was born to its, and all the other maidens past. The tempo is now fast as I dance around the clearing. I remember the men who came fortnight ago alluding that the ceremony is barbaric, that I die for nothing. They are too late. Not for others perhaps, but for me they are.
I dance around to the tempo of the music, to the birds that sing, to the wind that dances. I dance, with all my soul, I dance for this is my last.
By:
Orabueze Fortunia
200Level Pharmacy.
I am the
betrothed of the gods, to be offered as a sacrifice to cleanse the land of evil. I am the sacrificial lamb, to wash away the sins of the people. I was born a twin, the younger of the duo with feet first and the other twin dead. I did not cry for hours and did not suckle for days. I came with beauty untold, beauty not seen for the many years past, not since the three villages merged to form one.
I was named when I was 13 moons old, a harvest year after the day of my birth. This alone was a sign of what was to come. The feast lasted 3 days and 3 nights. “How they did know it was me”? I asked, and my mother said that even as a tiny baby I had such beauty that there was no doubt.
I grew up under my mother, who watched the days pass with a mixture of happiness and sadness, happy that she at least had a child to call hers, sad that the child would not last long in the world, that the child will bear no progeny. I grew up also under the Old Wise Woman, the right hand of the gods who was reputed to know all and see all. She also watched the days pass with happiness and sadness, happiness that one had been found, sadness that I was quite literally the harbinger of a new dawn.
Days passed and weeks, and months and seasons and the time drew near. The old wise woman had convened with the gods and a day for the celebration was chosen. It was the full moon after I marked eighteen years. The day is bright and clear, the sun favouring us and the rain forgiving. The air thrummed with excitement for this was the first sacrifice most except the very old had witnessed in a lifetime.
I am to be buried alive in the shrine of the gods and dug up seven market days later and my body burnt on their altar. I do not want to die but what do I do? It is my destiny and I was born to its, and all the other maidens past. The tempo is now fast as I dance around the clearing. I remember the men who came fortnight ago alluding that the ceremony is barbaric, that I die for nothing. They are too late. Not for others perhaps, but for me they are.
I dance around to the tempo of the music, to the birds that sing, to the wind that dances. I dance, with all my soul, I dance for this is my last.
By:
Orabueze Fortunia
200Level Pharmacy.
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